


words that disturb your earth

by openended



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fear, Gen, Motherhood, Rites of Passage, Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 20:44:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/789972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/openended/pseuds/openended
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Mirror of Erised has a twin, and she dared look upon it as a child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	words that disturb your earth

**Author's Note:**

> For SimplyPotterHeads' Ollivander's Challenge - Week 2.
> 
> Prompt: _The Mirror of Erised has a twin, the Mirror of Riapsed. Unlike its counterpart, looking into the Mirror of Riapsed isn’t at all encouraging, because it brings to the surface the looker’s very worst fears._

Narcissa hears Bellatrix talk about it, half manic like she is these days, hushed in a whisper all the summer before she gets her letter. It’ll be three years before she has to do it, but Bellatrix is all about the lead-up, the tease, the promise, and has so much Slytherin pride Narcissa wonders if her blood is green.

Andromeda scoffs whenever Bellatrix brings it up, brushes it off as no big deal, and though Narcissa is the baby of the family, she’s old enough to know when someone’s lying. Andromeda always looks away right after, blinks, and misses the next bit of conversation.

The Mirror of Riapsed. They’re not even supposed to know it exists, certainly not supposed to know where it is, and definitely not supposed to look at it.

But it’s a Slytherin rite of passage, looking in the mirror and telling everyone what you saw. The only way to be prepared for the worst is to know what the worst is.

It’s enough to make Narcissa wish – small and secret, that of an eleven year-old terrorized by an older sister, but a wish all the same – to be placed in any of the other houses, despite guaranteed family shame. But the hat sings out _Slytherin_ as soon as it touches her head and the cheers of her sisters and new house are enough to banish away her fears for now.

* * *

“Lie,” Andromeda says the night before. 

Narcissa’s sitting on her sister’s bed in the dormitory, worried. She doesn’t want to look in the mirror, doesn’t want to do this stupid rite, is so upset by the idea that she’s very close to marching up to Professor Dumbledore’s office and announcing the whole thing. But she’ll swallow her anxiety and go through with it anyway, because she is a Black and she is a Slytherin and this is what they do.

She bets she’ll see herself in the mirror, and everyone laughing at her for being so scared. She picks at the blanket, tracing her finger around the green and black designs, following the silver thread.

“Everyone lies, Cissa,” Andromeda puts her hand on her sister’s knee. 

She looks up. “How do you know?”

“My year, we had: exams for classes we never took, the offspring of a centaur and an acromantula, and Crabbe’s mum.” Andromeda had personally contributed _Walburga Black rising from the dead_. “The mirror shows what you fear most. And Crabbe’s mother is certainly terrifying,” Narcissa giggles with her, they’ve had the pleasure at dinner parties, “but she isn’t that kind of fear.”

Andromeda’s voice goes sad for a moment and the question is out of Narcissa’s mouth before she can think about it. “What did you really see?”

Andromeda looks away, blinks, and for a moment Narcissa thinks she isn’t going to answer and is about to take the question back when Andromeda whispers, “Ted.”

Narcissa covers her sister’s hand with hers and squeezes. That relationship is secret and important to Andromeda, more important than anything she’s ever felt before, and Narcissa doesn’t need legilimency to know the words hanging unspoken between them.

_Dying. Dead. Gone._

* * *

Narcissa hasn’t thought about the mirror in decades. She’s sure it’s been long packed away, hidden from the prying eyes of daring children, locked behind doors and spells if not secure in a Gringotts vault. But the walk through the forest is long and silent, even their footsteps are muffled over twigs and leaves and stones.

She didn’t see the face of the child; didn’t see gender or age or features. Only a child, her child, lying lifeless before her.

She’d screamed then, felt sharp cold stab through her ribs, and tripped over a stray chair as she ran out of the room with her eyes closed. She’d sprinted down the hallway, knee throbbing, past the shouts of the sixth-year keeping watch, and turned into the first room she found. Sobbing, her entire soul terrified, she slid down the wall and tucked her knees to her chest, wishing she could see anything else behind her closed eyelids. 

By the time Andromeda had found her, she’d fallen asleep on the stone floor out of sheer exhaustion. Ted carried her as far as he dared, easily lifting her slight form, and Andromeda led her the rest of the way, through the long-empty common room and to bed. She’d lied the next morning, said she left the mirror room and went straight to the library to study, and when asked, claimed that she saw the Minister breaking her wand.

She looks away from the others and blinks, swallowing an unmistakable chill. Her knee itches, still bearing a scar from her fall that night.

She cannot watch as Harry Potter is killed in front of her. She opens her eyes after the green flash and nearly stumbles backward. A child, not hers but still a child, lying lifeless before her. 

She feels a heartbeat under her hands, feels Lord Voldemort’s eyes at her back. She nearly tells the truth, but Draco is her son.

Barely, a nod.

Narcissa breathes. She will not have to face her fear tonight.


End file.
